Freude, schöner Götterfunken
by Narumo
Summary: A compilation of stories centered around Germany, Austria, Prussia, Poland and the rest of central Europe. France, the Italy twins and many others show up too.
1. Unter den Linden

Author's Notes: Written after one too many Ludwig kicks Gilbert out fic. Berlin was Prussia's capital, damn it! Jackidy owns Sean. I own Denmark's name.

* * *

Unter den Linden

"Brother, please." Ludwig sighed as he caught his brother reorganizing the kitchen. Again. He knew that Prussia did most of the cooking in the house but no-one could find anything when the male fixed the kitchen to his liking. At least he had stopped messing with the library after Germany had agreed to not adopt anymore dogs in exchange.

"It's not like anyone but me and your Italian pet use it." Prussia answered, balancing a tower of pots and pans on his arms.

"Italy is not my pet, brother." The male raised a fine eyebrow making Ludwig shift self consciously.

"Gilbert! What did you do to the music room?" Roderich irrupted into the kitchen, eyes flashing dangerously. "Where. Is. My. Piano?"

"We have to fix the roof unless you want the rain ruining it... and what do you mean your piano?! That's mine!" The albino growled, shoving his load in to a cupboard.

"GILBERT! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY COLLECTION?!" Germany shot in to the air when Elizabeta burst in to the room, eyes flashing as she brandished her trusty fraying pan.

"KEEP YOUR BLOODY PORN OUT MY HOUSE!" But Gilbert wasn't easily intimidated; the man was sort of friends, or at least not enemies, with Ivan after all.

"Brother..." Ludwig tried to stop the budding war, but the three nations ignored him. "Please don't fight..."

"YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO-" Hungary roared, clutching her weapon tightly, ready to punish the male for his offence.

"NO RIGHT? THAT WAS PORN ABOUT MY BROTHER!" And Ludwig definitely didn't need to know that.

"Germany~ Ve~ ve~ are we going out for dinner?" Germany wanted to tear his hair out as North Italy appeared behind him, the male was sure to make things even worse.

"West why didn't you tell me sooner? I already started dinner!" The albino scowled, moving to check on the shimmering pots he hadn't noticed amidst the fight and multiple shouts.

"Gilbert, would you kindly return my piano now?" Roderich stated coldly...and rather unwisely on Ludwig's opinion.

"Go buy your own, you freeloader... or play your own, I know you own one." Prussia growled back, now looking dangerously close to snapping. Germany tried to say something to stop the disaster but Hungary spoke before he could.

"If anyone is being a freeloader is you!" Hungary shouted angrily.

"Broth!-" But Ludwig didn't had time to finish before he found himself standing outside the house, Feliciano on the floor beside him as Roderich groaned on top Elizabeta. Gilbert was glaring at them all darkly from the front door, his trusty rifle on his hands.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out. My. House!" He commanded, the nations frozen on the floor. "I'm bloody tired of you freeloaders behaving like this is your fucking place."

With that said, the nation opened fire and the four countries where forced to exercise the dodging skills they had picked up after years of living next to Switzerland.

* * *

"What the hell are you doing here?!" Vash demanded as Roderich calmly drunk the tea that Lili offered him. Elizabeta was muttering something under her breath across the aristocrat, polishing her spear with a psychotic grin.

"We meet when I was shopping groceries for tonight's dinner, brother." Liechtenstein explained softly, putting the dirty dishes on a tray to carry then to the kitchen. "I invited them to join us."

"Lili, you really should ask me first before doing things like that." The male sighed, causing the younger girl to shift uneasily under his stare. "Don't worry; I'm not mad at you."

But he certainly didn't want the pair in his house. He didn't voice the last though to spare his sister's feelings, but he made sure to make his displeasure with their presence known. Sadly for him, Austria and Hungary were well versed in ignoring him. By nightfall it was too dark to send them home and then they could turn them away without breakfast. Soon enough, a week had passed and Switzerland was ready to shoot the pair in the head.

Liechtenstein, sensing her brother discomfort, decided to visit the reason why the pair had invaded the male's home. Said reason opened the door cheerily enough, grinning at the young girl lopsidedly. "Hey Lili, what are you doing here?"

"Hello Mist... I mean Gilbert." Prussia nodded and let Liechtenstein pass in to the house, slamming the door firmly after her, sparing a glare in the direction of the hiding Hungary before doing so.

"What can I do for you?" The girl thanked him softly as he placed a cup of tea and biscuits on the sitting room's table, the nation nursing his own beverages contently.

"Well, I have a request to make." The girl chose her words with care, by now most of Europe had heard about the row at the German house and she didn't want to offend the nation before her. "Ever since Mister Eldestein... moved away from the house he was being staying with brother... And well, you see..."

"It's driving Vashie up the wall?" Prussia finished easily, the girl nodding sheepishly at him. "And this is all because you invited him for dinner or something right?"

"I..." Lili blushed when the older male patted her head much like Switzerland did to make her feel better when she was feeling particularly down.

"You should just kick them out, you know?" Liechtenstein shock her head, protesting mutely at the very idea of being so, so rude to them. "Okay, okay, not an acceptable method I get it."

Prussia sighed, brushing his hair back absently. He was still pretty upset with the nations, but he liked the girl enough to not want her fretting all day about Vash's blood pressure. Never mind the fact Elizabeta was handling the issue like an opportunity to siege the house and Feliciano to send him pasta every day. His brother had moved to his own apartment, his precious mutts shipped to Arthur's house, and showed no sign of apologising. He probably thought he had done nothing wrong and was waiting for Prussia to forget about it and let him back in to the house.

If he believes that will happen then he is a bigger idiot than he thought.

* * *

Lovino Vargas was staring and he couldn't bring himself to stop. It was simply that the scene was so utterly ridiculous that he couldn't look away. Had he hit his head or maybe Antonio had feed him something strange by mistake?

"AND STAY THE FUCK AWAY OR I WILL BLOW YOUR HEAD OFF!" Gilbert roared, shooting at his younger brother and the potato bastard as he did. Vash whistled appreciably from his perch on the balcony beside him, handing him a reloaded weapon when he run out of bullets.

The Zwingli siblings had been invited to visit, move in really, the albino's house since Austria showed no signs of returning to his own home. The man was used to having others to do the housework for him and Vash, quite frankly, had had enough with babysitting him while they were young.

"Hum, shouldn't we stop them?" Lili after a particularly close call on Germany's part "I'm sure they are sorry?"

"Why? I'm enjoying the show." Lili sighed at Lovino's unhelpful response. "Don't worry; if Gilbert was shooting to kill they would be dead already."

"I suppose... Should I start dinner?"

"Sure, I will help you out."

* * *

"Soo, when are ya going to let them back in to the house?" Sigurðr inquired, patting a passed out Arthur on the head with his free hand. Gilbert had invited the pair for a drinking night and the trio had been drinking for a few hours by now. England had nodded out almost an hour ago and Switzerland had declined to join them "Heard from Edward that Elizabeta is now bunking with Feliks."

"Good for her." Prussia grouched, knocking the rest of his beer down. The woman had been trying to break in to the house ever since he had thrown her out along with the rest two months ago "This is my fucking house!"

"Fair enough, buddy." Denmark commented idly, unfocused eyes peering at the albino. "If I dint know better I would think ya miss having them around"

"Shut up and drink already!" Prussia snarled, almost choking down in his anger. "Not drunk enough!"

"Fine, fine" Sigurðr waved his arms around, almost knocking Arthur to the floor in his enthusiasm.

When Lili found them in the morning the trio was dog piled in the sofa and spent the rest of the day nursing monstrous headaches. Vash was completely unsympathetic with them and Lovino though the whole thing hilarious. In the end, Liechtenstein had to call Ireland and Norway to pick the pair up, much to the Scandinavian displeasure and the Irish amusement.

* * *

The thing that Austria had missed the most during the last two months was the antique piano he played at Prussia's house. And though it hurt his pride to admit it, he kind of missed the albino's cooking too. Denmark had come to the house at some point and suggested he apologized already to the male and Roderich, much to his own surprise, was actually entertaining the idea.

"I must be truly desperate..." The Austrian murmured as he browsed for something to give Gilbert.

"Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity, you know?" Roderich squeaked rather undignified as he heard the voice drawl in to his ear.

"Will you please not do that?!" Prussia seemed to be totally unconcerned as he examined a set of dishes. If Austria wasn't mistaken, the china set was rather similar to the one Prussia had at home.

"Hum, I suppose this will be a good replacement to the ones Hungary smashed yesterday when she tried to break in to the house, again." This explained why the brunette had returned with pieces of smashed china in her clothes. "But I think that I'm out of money by now. See ya Rody!"

"Will you stop calling me that?!" The albino laughed and disappeared from the store, leaving Roderich staring emptily at the porcelain dishes.

"You make no sense... as always I suppose." The male whispered to himself as he signalled a shop attendant that he would take the china set. Might as well take the help provided he supposed it wasn't like he had a better idea after all...

It was Lovino who answered the door when he knocked, the younger male in a suit that looked stray out from a gangster movie "Back for another round?" Austria frowned disapprovingly at the brunet, but under the circumstances he supposed South Italy had reasons to be smug. "He is in the kitchen I think."

"Thank you." He found Gilbert cutting vegetables, Lili peeling potatoes to the side. The girl nodded respectfully at him and took her leave. Gilbert didn't even spare him a second look as he moved to fill a pan with water, completely focused in his current task. "May I speak with you for a moment, please?"

"I suppose you are already here, aren't ya?" And wasn't that reassuring, but Roderich guessed he had got all the help he was getting. It was more than he had expected in any case. "What do you want? Kind of busy here."

The brunet opened his mouth but found that no words came in to his mind. He hadn't though too hard about what he would say mainly because if he had he would had lost his courage. Austria was not a man who dealt well with emotions and his pride often prevented him from apologizing when in the wrong. Prussia had been subject to this more than once and the nation guessed that he had simply got tired of the constant disregard.

"If you are just going to stand there get the fuck out." Gilbert stated after a few minutes of silence on the aristocrat part. "Don't you have anything better to do than stare at me? I know I'm awesome, but you are creeping me out."

"I... I, well, I wanted to..."

"Yeah"

"I wanted to apologize for my inappropriate conduct." Roderich spit out finally, refusing to met the other's eyes. He offered silently the packet he was carrying, but the other didn't move to receive it up. "...I'm, I'm sorry for the incon-"

"Wash those and set the table, will ya?" Gilbert interrupted him, waving at him with a wooden spoon. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour."

Austria opened his mouth to say something but closet it with an almost audible snap. Instead, he moved to the sink and washed the dishes silently, setting the table before moving to finish Lili's unfinished task. The pair worked in silence and Roderich joined them for dinner without questions. The food, in his opinion, tasted even better than usual.

* * *

The brunet sighed, his hands caressing the piano's keys gently, the albino chuckling gently at him. It had been almost a week since he had been allowed to return in to the house. The aristocrat had feared at first when the Zwingli siblings left the day after he abandoned the eldest house, but he had been surprised at how little he had noticed about his companions daily activities.

In the past he had thought that Gilbert's existence consisted in little else than bothering him and his brother. Instead, the albino had a demanding job at the government and the military. Lili and Lovino visited him often, the Italian almost a permanent feature at the house. He was also in much better terms he had assumed with other world countries and was very well informed about current world events.

"I swear you are in love with that piano." The albino declared, Gilbird chirping in apparent agreement from the man's hair.

"Don't be ridiculous." Prussia smirked at Austria's ineffective glare, the male waving away the other's anger easily.

"Sure, sure, keep telling yourself that." The albino yawned, stretching lazily before leaving his perch on the window. "I'm thirsty, want anything from the kitchen?"

"A cup of coffee wouldn't be amiss." The male nodded and left the room without another comment, the sound of footsteps barely out of earshot when someone knocked the window behind the brunet.

"Roderich, can you let me in?" Roderich blinked when he found Elizabeta kneeling against the wall. "Where is the idiot?"

"The idiot is currently behind him with a gun trained to your head." Austria hadn't heard the man return to the room and by Hungary's expression, neither had she. "You have exactly five second to scram before I open fire."

Before Austria can think to intervene, the nation shot Hungary dodging quickly to the side. Prussia leaped out the window and chased her out until she disappeared down the street. Roderich stayed frozen by the window, Gilbert grinning easily as he re-entered the house the same way he left it. "So, do you still want that coffee?"

"…Maybe something stronger would be nice."

* * *

Ludwig sighed irritably as he made his way to his brother's house. After his boss had finally learned about the reason why the brothers weren't living together anymore he had demanded that he fixed the issue. This meant he better apologize or his boss was going to drag him kicking and screaming to do so.

"And what are you doing here?" Gilbert drawled as he leaned over the fence while lazily watering the garden.

"Ah, well, I come to deliver this." He extended the box of sweet Japan had brought during his last visit. The man had also hinted that he should share it with the people he knew, pointing out that his brother seem to enjoy certain brands.

"Ludwig, you come here to deliver some sweets?" Germany shifted uncertainly under his brother's stare until the Prussian sighed heavily and whacked him on the head. "At least you could have brought beer." The albino remarked as he went to turn the hose off and open the door. "Come in then."

"What did the potato bastard bring?" Lovino inquired lazily as Lili welcomed the blond politely while Roderich frowned at the brunet's choice of words. Really, Antonio had done an appalling job raising the boy.

"He brought candy." Germany could feel his cheeks warming up as South Italy began to laugh hysterically. Prussia smirked as he began to scribble on a piece of paper and then handed it to his brother. "We drank all the alcohol with Denmark and Russia the last time they were over." The albino said as an explanation.

Ludwig wondered if there was some way he could dump the bill on his boss, probably not.

* * *

"Elizabeta, this is getting ridiculous." Sigurðr remarked, dragging the woman firmly by the arm. While he himself hadn't had as big as a role raising the female as other nations, not even Hungary dared to go against the nation who could keep both Russia and Belarus in check. Even if she really, really wanted to "And you should know better than to get on Finland's nerves"

The female nodded glumly, still bitter about her destroyed camera. Who knew Tino could be so protective? Or that he had so good senses for the matter? She only had time for a picture or five of his adopted son when he showed up with a riffle and threatened to declare war if she didn't hand it over now.

"Oi Gilbert open up!" Denmark shouted as he knocked with one hand. The sound of something crashing came from the house and smoke was coming out from the kitchen's windows. Prussia finally opened the door, smiling hugely at Denmark at first, and then glaring darkly at Hungary.

"Sigurðr," Gilbert was looking at the pair back at fort, frowning heavily as he did, Gilbird chirping from the top of his head. "What's going on?"

"Well, Gilbert, Elizabeta has something she wants to say to you!" Sigurðr replied easily, tightening his hold on the female's arm warningly. "Don't you Elizabeta?"

Denmark's smile was possibly dripping honey, but Hungary could felt a shiver going down her spine. She was quite sure that if she didn't do as he wanted she wasn't going to like the consequences. "I... I wanted to…" The female winced when she felt Sigurðr squash her arm; she was definitely going to have bruises tomorrow. "I wanted to apologize!" She finally shouted, closing her eyes stubbornly.

"Uh… Okay…" Prussia blinked as Denmark finally released his companion, the female rubbing her arm to regain the filling of her hand. When the two didn't move the albino stepped aside, the blond not even waiting for a second before walking right in. "Err Austria is making a pie… and burning the kitchen so will you to stay for a cup of coffee?"

"Of course ya know I love coffee!" The male declared cheerfully, dragging the other two toward the sitting room easily "Though I wouldn't say no to a beer!"

"…I think I would do with one too" Elizabeta remarked, Gilbert shuddering in response. The albino decided that he really didn't want to know.

* * *

Author's Notes: My muse went MIA on me in the middle of this so it took a long time to finish it. It's also longer than I initially thought which aided to the delay.

On the house: The house is situated where Gilbert's house used to be in Berlin before WWII. After it he reconstructed the trashed parts and lived there alone during the cold war. After the reunification their bosses insisted the brothers moved together. Austria and Hungary got used to living at the house (Prussia and later Germany cleaned for them) so they had virtually moved back in.

On Austria: The reason Prussia helped him was because he knows he is a miser and actually considering buying something as an apology was a huge sign from the brunet. He also wanted him out of Switzerland's house for Liechtenstein peace of mind.

On Germany: Prussia wasn't nearly as angry at him as he was with Austria and Hungary, which is why he didn't mind the cheap gift (And then left him with the pub's bill!). He was a bit ticked about Ludwig just waiting it out until their boss forced him to apologize but since he knows the blond has little social skills he understands.

On Hungary: She is used to abuse the albino and get away with it, mainly because he actually doesn't get truly angry easily, which is why she reacted in the a bizarre way that she did. She reacted in the usual way between them, but this time Gilbert wasn't going to accept that. And since Elizabeta is very proud, she needed the extra push to make things okay between them again.

On Denmark: He considers most of Europe as his children, which gives him the right to meddle. He doesn't actually do it much, but the fight was getting onto his nerves (Because it was more like quarrelling, a war he would had enjoyed).

On England: He is Denmark and Prussia's drinking buddy. Germany took advantage of the fact England had a teenager boy who thought his dogs were 'cool' to dump them on him. He was not amused. Neither was Whiskey the cat.

On the cooking: I think it would be rather strange for a country to not be able to cook its own food, so all nations in my mind can cook at least decently. Prussia is better because he: a) had to cook for himself during his early history. b) Is a bit of a perfectionist and took lessons to cook better. Austria isn't allowed to cook much because he always manages to trash the place. Hungary is dangerous near frying pans so she is mostly banned from the kitchen and Germany is an average cook so the four prefer to let the albino do the cooking. Ludwig has to clean the dishes though.

Jackidy note: Whiskey is the cat that belongs to the Kirkland family, primarily Scotland. The teenager in question who thinks dogs are 'cool' would be Northern Ireland.


	2. Totentanz

Author's Notes: I have read plenty of stories where Prussia died but what if it wasn't he who did? This chapter was betaed by Jackidy, thank you very much!

* * *

Totentanz

The path was silent, only the wind lamenting on the void lands, a pitiful wail that seemed to carry the pain of the dead. Bodies littered the ground, in the distance a silent marching line, corpses that wandered the land. Barren as far as the eye could see, sterile after a being a battlefield for over five years, the land waited silently, future uncertain in this world covered by ashes and blood.

A lone figure made his way through the path, figure ethereal against the dirty snow. His walk was heavy, painful to watch, but carried an odd energy; life still had a firm grip on it. He walked until he reached a lone tree, long dead and little else than dried wood, falling to the earth gracelessly besides the corpse of a once blond man, maybe a soldier, but so diminished that no one could be sure.

"...I didn't think... someone would come..." Scratchy, more a breath than speech, the sitting man didn't seem to be startled when the man spoke, sunken face carefully hidden by long strands of blond hair. "What... what are... you doing... here... Feliks?"

"...No one likes to die alone." The other murmured, never touching or looking at the gasping man, face firmly set on his once lush lands, body aching by the advance of the armies and the frantic marches to the west. There was only one man he hated more than the one beside him, but none the less, he hadn't been able to resist the pull of his own heart. They had known each other for many years now.

"He... he is coming." The polish man didn't question the other, his own skin tingling as the man's brother dashed along his land. When a country settled over another, it never quite went away, senses picking their people much like the ghost pain of a missing limb. Sometimes, he could still feel the other, his partner and friend for many years, even after all the years without a word to each other. It was not something they ever spoke of, but the man stayed silent for the dead sakes.

"He will be here soon." The German closed his eyes again, his breath short as the night grew cooler, bloodless face almost transparent against the frozen ground. His companion didn't move, half lidded eyes never leaving their post, peering not only ahead, but to the past and future as well. It had been a long time since one of them truly passed away. "He will be here soon."

"I... fear... I... won't be... here to meet... him..." The last word was almost choked out, a fine trail of blood leaving its mark on the pastry face. The other was growing still, what little energy was left quickly fading, fading as the air grew dark, the world waling around them. The Pole gripped his pants, knuckles turning white, wishing that the other would hurry; there was so little time left, so very little... "Bro... brother..."

"He will be here soon." He repeated himself, more to convince himself than his vanishing companion. The other would not reach them in time, but what little hope he had left he would spare for his companion, if only for one sombre night. Was it really so long ago when he had ridden against the man he waited with bated breath for? Was it so long ago when the man next to him was a toddler? Was it so long when his lands were the same green his eyes are? "He will be here soon."

They stayed silent for a while, the traveller fearing his companion dead more than once, only a wet cough signalling the end had not yet came, but bringing it closer with every drop of blood. Suddenly, the air grew still, as if the very earth wanted to hide, the wind dying as the sitting man stood, keen eyes on the east, a terrible pain spreading around his body. "Lea... leave...e... He...e is com...ing!"

The Pole shook, pain and fear mixing in his mind going almost blind for a minute only the harsh breath from his companion bringing him back. He stood undecided for a moment, eyes finally settling on dying German, frantic green eyes meeting delirious blue. He ached all over, the desire to run, to hide, to leave, almost overpowering, but he finally reigned himself, kneeling in front of the broken body and helped him awkwardly to stand, bearing more weight than not.

"Ru...un! You... ha... hide!" The other ignored him, little body shaking under the other's form, strength so diminished that he almost fell to the ground after a single step. But endure it he did, walking quietly into the wildness, feet taking him deeper into the vast nothingness than was now his land. "Fe...liks!"

"I... I can't take you with me. I don't know how long I will be able to outrun him by my own. But at least... I least I can leave you where only your brother can find you." The blond man shock his head, spend body hanging limp from the other's back. He was simply to far gone to resist, completely at the polish man's mercy. His brother would had laughed at the irony, hiding back the bitter tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. "I... I will run then."

"Can... can you... him some...?" The words were growing fainter by the second, body turning cold in his back. There was so little time left... "Fe..."

"Yes, I will tell him anything you want anything! I find a way! Just please, for the love of God, rest!" He felt a faint nod next to his ear, breath so soft he almost could make out the blonde's words, but hear he did and tell he would.

"Tell... Tell, brother... sorry... love... love him..." The stumbling man felt tears on his eyes, but he continued running, the cold body of the German limp as he placed him on the ground, deep into a forgotten mine, a place where even him would not find the other. The polish man could fell the frantic creature in his land, wailing, running across the paths like a wraith, pride forgotten, taken, as he neared them. But it was too late, time had run out.

Without giving the man a final glance, the man broke into a run, his own pursuer close, too close. He would deliver his message and eventually lead the grieving brother to his brethren. But for now, he had to run, to flee, or he would be joining the other in the underground, forgotten amidst the mountain of bodies than buried their world, his name a mere casualty in a war so old that they all had forgotten the true beginning.

* * *

Author's Notes: And this, my readers, is why I shouldn't be allowed to write angst.


	3. Foreign Relations

Author's Notes: Poland! I like Poland since I learned the Pope was polish. And yes, I am aware that the new pope is not polish but John Paul II will always be the Pope in my mind. I own the Netherlands's name. This chapter was betaed by Jackidy, thank you very much!

* * *

Foreign Relations

The blond was bored, Lithuania had been spending most of his time with his brothers lately and he couldn't go to Deutschland since his bosses were quarrelling with the German's again. He couldn't visit North Italy because he was in some kind of meeting with his brother and he know better than to mess with the kind of associates the older Italian man hanged around. This left him staring blankly at the ceiling since he had finished all the work his boss had assigned him.

Deciding that he had enough of work for a day, Feliks gathered his things and waved his secretary goodbye. Clad in his favourite crimson skirt and pristine white shirt which he had bough in a shopping spree with Yekaterina, the blond caught the attention of most male diplomats as he exited the building, ivory heels clicking as he entered the cafe across the street and sat down gracefully. A waiter took his order and he was soon sipping a mocaccino.

Maybe he could visit Hungary? She probably was out with the Czech Republic and Slovakia at the moment... He was also due to visit the Netherlands around now, since he had been putting it off for a few weeks now. Nodding to himself, the blond paid his drink and made his way back to the parking lot to reclaim his car.

* * *

Feliks whistled as he wandered around, trying to remember were Radboud lived. While most of the nations preferred to stay in ancient house guarded by their governments, the man preferred to live occasionally among normal people to get a feeling of the life they lead. This made it hard to find him half the time since he moved every ten or fifteen years as a result. He did have a main house, an old thing that he visited rarely, mostly kept because the memories attached to it. It was that house the blond made his way to, maybe the caretaker could point him to the Dutch's current location.

The blond paused when a young girl, about eleven, rung the bell to the house he recognized as Radboud's, dark hair held back primly by an emerald ribbon. The matching dress and shiny black shoes made her look more like a doll than a living thing, but Poland could feel the link to the land that all countries held. He froze for a second, natural shyness making him hesitant to approach the house while the stranger stood there, but finally approached when a middle aged man opened the door.

"Good Afternoon, I'm looking for Radboud Schermerhorn." The petit figure stated seriousness at odds with her child like demeanour. "I'm Teresa Sarria."

"And the lady…"

"The same" The man nodded and invited them to come in while he called the nation, the man being currently in a meeting with 'a mister Williams'. The girl wasn't to happy when the older male inquired about her drink order, she had asked for dark coffee, but the pair settled finally in a sitting room without farther trouble. "Like, who are you? I'm Feliks, and totally don't remember meeting you."

"I'm Teresa, and I don't remember seeing you before." The polish male grumbled, puffing his cheeks. While he was certainly no Ludwig, he was an important nation in Europe and it wasn't often to find people who didn't know him. "Which country are you? I'm Venezuela by the way, from Latino America."

"I'm Poland." And he might not have meet the girl, but he had certainly heard about the country, especially with the current president annoying habit of knocking egos with USA's boss. Spain had been selling t-shirts lately too, but they were totally lame so Poland hadn't bought one.

"I like your skirt, but my president doesn't like it when I wear short skirts." The girl pouted, and Feliks smiled sympathetically, his bosses had taken a long time to get used to his more extravagant tastes. But a country several times their age, they had the good sense to not get in his way. The seemingly younger nation probably had a hard time, much like Raivis or Peter did. "But the heels look uncomfortable."

"They can be. But I totally like 'em. 'Sides, if you step on someone with them it hurts more." And he had plenty a chance to do it after some perverted hands tried to get accounted with his butt. Lithuania had pleaded with him to dress more conservatively, but like most of the time, the fickle blond had ignored the male who finally desisted when he saw his friend broke someone's foot for being particularly daring. "But you look, like, totally cute in that dress. Green is totally your colour."

"Don't you think so? I've been telling that to Carmen for ages! But she and Laura are colour blind I swear. They insist I look better in blue." Poland stuck his tongue out at that, there was no way the girl looked better in blue, though a nice cobalt blue might work. Elizabeta was better with that kind of thing anyway or maybe Lili. "Say, do you want to try something? Well, I actually don't know if you have tried it already..."

The girl began to rum on her handbag, humming under her breath a rather catching tone that Poland knew he was going to be humming for the rest of the week and produced a handkerchief cheerfully. She offered him one of the different pastries to him and he found them quite to his liking. "Like them? Carmen made them for me. They are called 'alfajor'."

"They are, like, totally good." Even if he had no idea who these Carmen or Laura the kid keeps mentioning, he felt like he would like the pair if they were friend with someone like Teresa. "Say, do you know how long have we been waiting?"

"I have no idea." Poland grinned mischievously at the girl before standing up. If they weren't going to entertain them they would have to entertain themselves. "Why don't we look around? Serves them right if they have to search for us, honestly"

"Hum... Laura would say it's not polite to do that... So let's go!" They grinned at each other and began to run around the house, a couple maids looking scandalized as the pair ran around like kids, well one looked like one, and began to chase the pair to stop them. When Matthew and Radboud finally arrived three hours later, the tall man laughed loudly at the state of his cleaning staff and gave them the rest of the day and the next off, poor frayed nerves couldn't possibly deal with the pair anymore.

* * *

Author's Notes: I had a lot of fun writing this, even if I fail to write Feliks' speech. Don't ask me why I had him meet Venezuela, but the little nation-tan insisted. She is rather young looking because I think most nation tans from Latino America would be like that, since it's a pretty immature continent compared to Europe or Asia since the conquerors almost obliterated the American civilizations and then we finished the job. The ones I see as adults are mostly due to land size than any maturity (And I'm looking at you Alfred), mental age, or because the territories were never truly colonized (Brazil, Chile).

Oh, and Teresa is visiting Netherlands because the kid befriended the man due to the dutch territories being close to Venezuela. Radboud has a good enough temper to ignore her president pushing for the independence of said territories as long as the girl doesn't start bothering him about it. Teresa likes him because she has adopted him as a sort of father figure since Spain failed miserably and the native Brazil tan spends most of his time in the Amazons.


	4. Auferstanden aus Ruinen

Author's Notes: Because head canon is weird and Gilbert refuses to express himself any other way. This chapter was betaed by Jackidy, thank you very much!

* * *

Auferstanden aus Ruinen

Prussia is surprised when he wakes up, coarse blanket covering his weak, wounded frame. The last thing he remembers is Russia and his army and his men dying, losing, leaving the way open toward his brother and their heart. His chest feels like it's on fire and he knows, he knows they have lost, he knows that he has failed. He wonders where he is, but feels weak, too weak to stand, too weak to move or rise his own voice. Prussia doesn't know when he falls back to unconsciousness.

The next time he wakes up there is someone on the room and he wonders if he was the one who picked him up from the battlefield. Is a old rule between them, so old that none of them remember when it started, but all of them followed it. Is not out of companionship or care for each other, but a simple rule that saves them from waking up buried with their dead, it's a rule that saves them from going mad each time a war is lost and let's them retain some grade of humanity with them.

"Hello Comrade." Ivan's voice is soft, friendly, and Gilbert is glad, because his head aches as does the rest of his body. He hasn't feel this weak for a long, long time. "You have been sleeping for a long time, yes?"

Prussia tries to talk, to ask, but his throat emits a painful croak and Russia shakes his head, moving to raise his head gently and feed him a little water. The nation feels ashamed but doesn't protest and the other doesn't comment. If it was the other way around Prussia knew he wouldn't either, it is simply the way it is.

"You better rest, Comrade." And Gilbert doesn't protest, he just closes his eyes and feels more than hears Ivan leave him.

When Gilbert opens his eyes next he feels stronger, the fire pain in his chest diminished but not gone. He now recognizes the room he is in and wonders for how long he has been sleep. He remembers his brother and state the Thirty Year War left him in. The nation forces him out the bed and less than gracefully drags his self through the hallways. He hears noise from somewhere within the large house and follows it, follows it because he needs to know.

"Gilbert!" The voice is a familiar one and he soon finds himself held up by its owner. "What are you doing out of bed?!"

"I... Elizabeta what? What are you doing here?" And he pretends not to see the suppressed pity, because if he does he doesn't know what he would do. It has been many years since he trusted her and her him, on a time when both of them wore not uniforms but heavy plates and the Christian cross on their breasts. "Elizabeta?"

"You... You have been sleeping for a long time." Hungary whispers and Prussia finds it strange that Austria is not by her side. "Come on... I... We have much to talk about."

The woman leads and half carries him to a room, where more familiar faces wait for him. Poland is alone, as far away as he can from the Baltic brothers. Estonia is working on some documents as Latvia sit silently next to him. Lithuania is offering cafe to a tired looking Romania. Other countries from Eastern Europe are also in the room and Prussia wonders why Hungary brought him here.

"Ah, Comrade Beilschmidt is awake I see." Ivan smiles at him as Elizabeta set him down, the rest of the countries nod at him before standing quietly and leaving the room the Hungarian female closing the door behind her. "How do you feel?"

"Well enough." A vague answer, but Ivan doesn't question him and Gilbert doesn't offer more. The nation feels more like a rag doll, but his need to know is stronger than any pain he feels "How long?"

"Hum, well, I believe it has been two years now?" Russia isn't looking at him as he answers; instead he stares out the window. He wonders what the Russian sees, both in front him and in his mind "Maybe a little more?"

"And Ludwig…"

"He is with Comrade Kirkland I believe." Arthur? Why is his brother with him? "You see, we thought you wouldn't survive May, so they decided to leave you in my care until then."

"Survive?" And he wants to know what does the other mean by that because he shouldn't be alive in the first place, because he remembers dying at the Russian's hands, leaving the way free to his heart and his brother lands. "Why?"

"Can't you feel it, Comrade?" Ivan's eyes have always been cold, cold like the Siberian Winter, but Gilbert has never been afraid of him. Instead, Gilbert sees the concern and that is what worries him, because they are nations and nations don't show concern to other nations.

But before he can ask anymore he feels it and a gasp escapes him before he brings horrified hands to his mouth. He hears them now, now that he is looking and feels for them, feels his heart bleeding and how weak they are even as they rise. He feels them as they crawl back to the motherland, a motherland poisoned by their own blood. He feels the phantom pain of the land that was his own, feels the hate and the fear as he reaches every heart, every mind.

He feels the tears as he realizes, realizes the truth. And he reaches, blind, confused, terrified and the other reaches for him, frail, beaten but there. They both cry and Gilbert wants to demand for answers, wants to hurt him for saving him, for making them this way, for making them weak. But he can't, because he feels the other's pain as his own and he can only do as he has always done, and holds him as his brother cries, bitter tears mixing as they fall.

And he feels when the Russian picks him up and takes him back to his room, dimly, for he is not really there but far away in a British bed. He is with his brother, minds wrapped around each other as they mix, as Gilbert stops being Prussia and becomes Germany. And he doesn't know how long they cry, he doesn't even know where he is half the time. He just clutches his brother until both of them are pulled back, none ready to return, but they are their people and they must come back.

Gilbert whispers in his brother's mind a final message, a silent warning. They are weaker now, two nations for one country. Their enemies can finish them with little effort, like the flickering flame of a candle in a windy night. And then he is gone and Gilbert is alone again, Ivan staring at him from beside the bed, a silent witness to the end of an old, old nation. Gilbert brushes the tears aside and accepts the clothes the Russian hands him, putting them on without word.

When he next exits the room Prussia is dead, buried in blood, ink and dried tears, and the German Democratic Republic rises in its place.

* * *

Author's Notes: I have long thought that for Gilbert to survive Ludwig would have to hand him part of the land and people. I also think that when any of them conquers a place, they leave a mark in the land, and feel them like a phantom pain of a severed limb, which is why Gilbert can feel his former people and land.

Gilbert here isn't scared of Ivan because I find it strange for nations who had fought with and against each other to be. I can understand the Baltic Nations but not France or England. In fact, England was Russia link to Europe for many years and there has talk of marriage between the two royal houses.


	5. For Faith, Law and King

Author's Notes: Not only he hijacked me but he brought all his angst with him… This chapter was betaed by Jackidy, thank you very much!

* * *

For Faith, Law and King

The sun shone brightly as the autumn air kept the day pleasantly cool. A cat was lying lazily on top of a car, a second one eating from a bowl voraciously. The house was silent, but the curtains were floating gently outside the open windows, and none answered the bell when he rung it. The man entered the house, and followed the sound of the shower to the second floor.

The room was full of steam, and the scent of lilies was thick. The water had stopped, and the owner of the house sat in front of a vanity, running a comb on his blond hair. On the bed, different kind of clothes and handbags laid. The brunet knocked on the doorframe, the blond grinning lazily at him, waving at him cheerfully.

"Toris, like, what are you doing here?" The blond seemed completely unconcerned about the other's presence, selecting one of the garments on the bed and putting it on. "Like, I'm totally busy now."

"Where are you going?" Feliks was a naturally shy person, and tended to stay at home or, when going out, with a partner or a group. Maybe he was meeting that Latino American girl he had befriended? "Feliks?"

"Hum? Ludwig invited me to go to the Botanical Garden in Berlin." Feliks inspected two skirts, and then put on a green one that resembled the colour of his eyes. "He said that there was something he totally wanted me to see. I think they opened a new section or some junk like that."

"I thought you were angry at him." And the blond did know how to hold a grudge. "Or are your bosses going to be there?"

"Nah, we are cool." Feliks grinned at him, putting on a pair of silver high heels and sauntered back to the vanity. "'Sides, the garden is totally gorgeous at this time of the year."

Toris stayed quiet as the blond applied his makeup, wanting nothing more than to force the other to put on some pants and stay at the house. But Feliks would never stand for it, not only things were still shaky between them, but regardless of his easygoing personality, the blond was fiercely independent. Feliks wouldn't react well to him meddling with his affairs, however much he disliked the idea of him going out with the German.

The brunette jumped when he felt someone knocked the front door. Feliks grinned and walked toward the window, hips swaying teasingly as he walked. "I'll be right down." Toris didn't hear the answer, following the blond unhappily. Feliks yanked the door open, and grinned at the blushing Ludwig, the man holding a bouquet of red poppies.

"Oh, this are like, totally pretty." Then Feliks did something that effectively fried Toris's brain. The pole had brought the German's face down and was kissing him, quite happily one might add.

* * *

"So, why are you stalking them now?" Toris didn't know who he ended hiding inside a bush with a camouflaged Gilbert beside him. "Finally noticed your boyfriend was dating my brother behind your back?"

"He isn't my boyfriend!" Lithuania hissed furiously, Prussia shushing him down. He liked Belarus after all! And the two had finally gone on a date, the girl was shy, that's all. He was just concerned for his friend, really.

"Yes, at least admit it would you. That way I don't have to worry about finding naked poles on my coach." And Toris really didn't appreciate the mental image, not at all. The pale male stared at him for a second and snorted. "Don't tell me you really believe that shit?"

"Of course" If Gilbert's incredulous face said anything, the male didn't believe him one bit "We never, I never!"

"Ok, ok, shut up will ya? Not only they will hear us but I rather don't think about how pathetic you are after all the times we fought against each other." Toris spluttered, but Ludwig had stopped to look around, an exasperated frown on his face as his face.

"Brother, please tell me you aren't following us again." Gilbert cursed the pair standing still until Feliks tugged the suspicious German away. The Pole was complaining about something and his partner soon lost interest in favour of paying attention to the pouting blond.

"Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick." Gilbert gagged as they followed the pair to a restaurant. "Here, help out will ya?" Toris felt this was either going to end very well or in a complete disaster.

* * *

"Like, I can't believe the stupid chefs ruined our food!" Feliks was complaining loudly from the couch while Toris cooked on the kitchen. "And we were having, like, a totally great time!"

"Didn't you two eat at his house after?" And he tried to ignore how jealous he sounded, even to his own self.

"Yeah but Gilbert was totally annoying and Roderich was totally stiff" The man grumbled a bit more until Toris exited the kitchen with a plate full of Faworki. Feliks squealed happily and dug in, half hidden eyes shinning. "Toris, these are, like, totally good!"

"Ah, thank you." And Toris tried to ignore how his heart sped up at his friend compliment. Really, he had behaved very childishly when he helped Prussia sabotage the pair's date and even if it did bring him some sort of twisted pleasure it was hardly the proper thing to do.

"Toris~ you will get winkles if you frown like that~" Feliks said in singsong, mouth full of powder as he chewed on the sweets the Lithuanian had baked. "What are you worrying about now?"

"Ah, nothing important, really"

"Hmmm, like, you can totally tell me, you know?" The Pole whistled a catchy tone before picking the phone. "You know, I was totally thinking about inviting Ludwig to come here tomorrow. Like, what do you think?"

Lithuania thought he should stay as far away as inhumanly possible. "If you want to I don't see why not."

* * *

"You know, you are pathetic." Gilbert declared after they successfully ruined another date between Ludwig and Feliks. "You say you don't like the guy but you tray to ruin his dates harder than I do."

"I... I just don't..." Think your brother makes an appropriate date? That would not go well with the albino. "I mean, eh..."

"Yeah, yeah, we are evil Nazis out to get poor Poland the lamb. Seriously, my brother is probably still a virgin and Feliciano has been throwing himself at him for years." And Toris really didn't want to remember the time Ivan had dragged them over Ludwig's house and the Italian had gone around naked. "If you are so in love with the Ivan's crazy sister why don't you go chase after her?"

"Miss Belarus is shy, I, I can't just…" Toris trailed of, shifting under Gilbert's incredulous expression.

"You know what; I think Poland should be glad he likes my brother instead of you…" Prussia stared at Lithuania for a little longer before shaking his head. "You know what; I think you just convinced me to leave them alone. I don't want my brother ending so pathetic."

"What-" But didn't have time to protest before the Prussian male was gone, the Lithuanian male staring emptily at his back. "But… I really like her."

* * *

"Toris~ why are you so sad?" The male startled, not turning around to meet Poland's eyes at first. When he turned he gave him his best fake smile, but the other glared at him, completely unconvinced.

"I… I don't know what you mean." Feliks pouted, but he wouldn't be himself if he let Toris at that. If nothing else, the blond was one of the most stubborn nations on Earth. "I'm fine really."

"Toris" Lithuania stiffened; Poland only used that tune when he was disappointed at something he did. "Why can't you tell me?"

"I… Don't worry Feliks, I… It's just something I have to deal by myself." The Pole hunched and the brunette felt like the lowest creature on Earth. "Please."

"Okay… I will leave it alone." Feliks left his house shortly after that and Toris couldn't bring himself to stop him.

"Why do I feel so guilty?" Lithuania asked himself as he picked up Poland's forgotten jacket; he would have to return it later. "I'm, I'm just concerned about him…"

But it had turned incredibly hard to convince himself after the first few months of seeing the couple together. Prussia had stood by his word and stopped his efforts to break them apart, much his brother surprise. The last time Toris had seen him, he had been hanging around with Lovino and Lili, much to Vash displeasure.

_You could admit it at least._

_You like him._

_He was throwing himself at you for years._

_God, you are pathetic._

"I'm pathetic." Toris agreed, burying his face in his hands, Feliks pink jacket falling to the floor. But no-one was there to see him cry this time.

* * *

Author's Notes: Why do I have the feeling I just made a lot of people angry?


	6. Helfen, Wehren, Heilen

Author's Notes: Because Gilbert refuses to express himself any other way… This chapter was betaed by Jackidy, thank you very much!

* * *

Helfen, Wehren, Heilen

His oldest memory is of his father taking him north, farther than he has ever been and living him in the middle of the night in a field. He remembers crying for the first time then, scared of the dark and hungry, for both his father's love and nourishment. He doesn't know for how long he stays lost there, a toddler still, wondering why his father has taken him away from the warm place he was born in.

It's not until a group of nomads pick him up that he gives up hope that he accepts that father is not coming back. There is a boy there, older, wiser, who teach him how to defend himself. He is young, body too soft still, but he picks it up quickly. When the boy returns to his lands he is confident in his ability to defend himself and the nomads. They threat him kindly and since his father never gave him a name, they give him theirs.

He travels across the land then, the nomads teaching him both about them and his own self. He is curious, as he has seen little beside the inside of his father's house and the forest he had been abandoned at. The nomads are happy to teach him, never growing tired of the little boy that live with them. During the time the child stays with them they never feel hunger and they tell him he is like a guardian spirit to them. They say that they will protect him, for he feels like the land and the wind.

And as the years pass and he grows strong he realizes he has forgotten his father's face and he wonders if he should feel guilty, because he certainly doesn't feel pain. He is content with his life, a simple existence that brings him joy. He meets the boy again, now a teenager and he is kind to him, teaches him things he doesn't know and takes him to meet others like them.

None of them look like him, but his friend assures him that there is a child to the north who lives in his house who does. He asks if he can meet him but never does, but he doesn't mind and quickly forgets about him. He is more interested in the life around himself, a boy who lives far away nothing more than a interesting passing thought but not essential. He spends his time with the nomads' elders instead, always a new story with them.

But his happiness doesn't last long, something changes in the south and as the conflict escalates and unions proliferates he grows, a little yes, but he grows. His people tell him to leave, because they can't protect him any longer and he hides for many years in a forest, a wild thing that becomes legend. When he next hears his friend's voice he hides, because now the land trembles and his people fear for him and themselves.

The trees embrace him and the land feeds his hunger. He forgets the name he was given and the world around him, the wild animals his only companions. The spirits of the forest tell him their secrets and whisper tales of other beings who live beyond its borders. The boy listens, curious, but the spirits begin to grow fainter and soon he is alone again, a lonesome creature in the middle of nowhere.

But one day a strange man finds him, a man who dresses in iron and wears a black cross. He isn't scared, because he is one of his people and they have never hurt him. The man takes him to others like him and they take him in their mist. When they ask him for his name he tells them that he has none so they give him his first human name, a name for him, given by God. They say they will take him to the land of God and he leaves the forest that has been his home for many years and travels to a barren land far away.

The knights, for he knows they are knights now, say the Lord gives and takes as he sees fit and it's not their place to question. He doesn't understand but wants to remain with them so he stays silent. Even when they lose their Holy Land they keep on singing about the Lord, so he sings with them, and he slowly begins to hear His voice. At first he is scared, terrified, but the voice is kind, unlike what his companions tell him. Even when he loses his house a second time he is happy, because the voice tells him He will always be with him.

He travels back to his lands after their defeat and His voice on Earth tells them to go east, to join those who protect them from the unfaithful from beyond their lands. The king welcomes them and he is granted a real home, something he had never had before. The knights tell him that he has others, that his heart should be in another place, but this land feels to him like the one to the east, warm, welcoming, accepting.

"Hey! Boy! You will work for me now." The kid's face snaps up from where he is kneeled on the ground, observing his knights train. It's a favourite pass time of his, as is joining them when no-one is there to see him and stop him. "You better do a good job!"

"What- Of Course I will! You will be amazed by my power!" The other child smiles and the boy can feel the heat rush to his cheeks, he hasn't spoke to a kid for many years. But the strange boy laughs at his words and that makes him defensive. "What are you laughing at?!"

"Nothing, nothing now I know we will get along fine." They shake hands and the other leads him to a corner, where they eat and drink their meagre meals. And the boy is awkward, because he hasn't talked to a child for many years and even more has passed since he last saw his friend from the North. "So, the people here call me Bernard. What do your people call you?"

"Gilbert, my name is Gilbert."

* * *

Author's Notes: …enjoy?


	7. World Memory

Author's Notes: ...This was originally meant to go in a very different direction, but Prussia hijacked me and decided to turn all philosophical (and pessimist) on me.

* * *

World Meeting

The world meetings are shady, noise affairs that seldom result in anything beside a now Independence campaign against England or Spain and the forming of extremely temporary alliance. Lately, re-enactments of the Cold War had become popular, with a side dose of Islamic paranoia. All in all, they serve little other end besides occupying the time of bored nations who found it increasingly more difficult to hide their existence in the modern world.

The decadent occasions are even more superfluous to annexed territories, as people like Wales, Tibet or Alaska are often ignored since they are no 'real nations', mere shadows of a distances past better forgotten but forced to attend all the same. Countries are still measured by the amount of land under their flags, even if now days the flags are made of bills and whips have become bilateral treaties. Violence in the world has not vanished nor diminished, only more subtle, but not less cruel.

Prussia had been a great nation once, one who the world stared and copied, envied and despised. Be it glory or death, the man and country had walked strong, never fearing the consequence, for cowardice was an affront that won't be tolerated. Gilbert lived by his code, proud, methodical, and loyal. Weakness was something he had never felt, a state not even Ivan had been able to reduce him to, no matter how much he oppressed, how much he isolated.

But as globalisation advanced, the ex-nations felt oblivion closer, a death which crawls up their veins, silent, wicked, feared. Nations feel it, and fear it even more than them, willing to offer anything in exchange of life, willing to murder the past as long as they can continue to live the future. No amount of love stops the process, no amount of forced cheerfulness or bitterness. The world sleeps in a cradle made of blood and bones.

Gilbert is growing fainter, time numbing his connection to the land, to the people. As Ludwig gains hold on the East, his strength sags, fire not longer burning bright, but pitiful embers that will go out with a single blow. His body functions still, the ground solid under his legs, but he now his spirit will not last as long as the rest of him. Only his stubborn nature and the voice of his remaining people hold him in place, Berlin still his heart, even after the reunification. He will remain until the last Prussian man and woman is dead, their fire shinning brighter than any other.

"_Global warming..."_

"_A Tsunami..."_

"_...help..."_

"_...coup d'état…"_

"…_war…"_

"…_peace."_

Empty words, empty treats, Gilbert wonders why is he here. Work for him has not run out, even with the changed status. His brother is a good man, a good soldier, but not a leader. Prussia leads, Prussia fights, and Prussia will knock heads with their boss if the need comes. Ludwig will support, steadfast, but a second man, content to do his job and live life with his mutts. Gilbert can't enjoy such a life; he is a being of strife, of conflict, a force that will forever shake the world. No man or woman can rein him, only death will be able to take his will.

But the same brashness that leads him to hold, to fight for every voice in his head, for every whisper in his mind, is what put him at odds with the world, world who believes itself gone to a place were the past can't touch it. And is the leader in him who protests when he sees Alfred at the front, mocking boy with little regard for the world. Nations always look for their own profit, but even Empires must stand somewhere, or they will lose their hold, power turning to ashes in their hands.

Maybe is for this reason he will listen, however begrudgingly, to Berwald, to Sadiq, because the land can only take so much.

"...and if we follow this..." The child speaks, voice eager, and Gilbert wonders when he turned old enough to find the energy on it grating, insulting even. The naivety is still fresh in him, a nation who refuse to grow up and became everything he rebelled against. Prussian lends on the table, taping the wood absently. It feels feeble, artificial, what had happened to the oak and to the pine? Is plastic the only thing on the world?

"If we follow you we will hand the world to the devil" Austria looks disgruntled beside him, little comments, caustic truth that startles him and confuse him. The man was grown used to the warrior, the soldier, and is unwilling to see the man, the knowledge. He was lived long and sired many in his lands, brilliant minds, minds that had left their mark on him. "We can feel the world rooting under out feet."

"Brother..." Ludwig voice, once authoritative, full of carefully contained passion, is flat in his ears, long robbed of its true self. Europe follows the New World, the thought enough sent bile up his throat. Where are the conquerors? Where are the armies? The world is a sick beast, drowning in its own misery and pain. "Brother, please."

"Like sheep to the slaughter."

"Gilbert." A single word, clipped, unfamiliar. Elizabeta has grown into a woman, yes, but a cruel one. Enjoyment is scarce, while worries pile, so why not amuse oneself with the pain of others? There had been a time were she would had ride to defend others, but now she sat with her lance rusting on the corner. She had been gland to let him go, only witness to her life. Mistakes are ugly creatures no-one wish to face, shame a companion despised above all else.

She had been his closest friend once, a long time ago when they still wore their armours and hair short, the cross of the lord on their breast. But when she had not been able to mould him, she had been content to leave, Roderich a more malleable creature. "Silence"

Not a word he hadn't heard before, and certainly not an insult to take notice of but his mind rings as his throat closes. Once she had been willing to listen to him, even seek his advice. But she had turned to the world, only seeking to silence this is who had refused to join the funerary pyre. Once he would have had been gland to die to protect her, to ride to war for her. Once he would had have lived in peace for her.

_...Silence...._

_....Silence..._

For a moment his holds fails, his brother jumping as the voice fill his mind. Prussia doesn't let him talk, doesn't want to listen. He leaves. The world turns fainter as he walks, still there as he takes back what is his. But he knows it won't be long now.

* * *

Author's Notes: Don't ask, Prussia told me to write it. About Hungary, well I don't hate her, but I'm certainly not bi for her. Frankly, I find her a bit shallow (Yeah, I know in which fandom I am, so stop it with the eye rolling already), mostly because in the strip dealing with their early life she hanged around with Gilbert but now that she was found new friends abandoned him like dirty laundry. I do like Roderich, he is great fun to mock after all and PianoxAustria all the way, but he does tend to be overly passive and conscious of his image, not that the rest isn't.

About the fic itself, while telling Gilbert to shut up may not seem like much, it is a way to deny someone, and if you never listen to a person, s/he will began to feel like a non entity. Which is why I never follow canon completely and have the whole world ignore Canada, you go bankers in a lot less than four hundred years or however old the kid is.


	8. Growing pains

Author's Notes: Inspired by this: http://i46(dot)tinypic(dot)com/2010fn4(dot)jpg, http://i46(dot)tinypic(dot)com/317cbya(dot)jpg and http://i49(dot)tinypic(dot)com/262tzb4(dot)jpg . Betaed by Jackidy, so many thanks to her.

* * *

Growing Pains

The clothes felt uncomfortable but the blond man was smiling at him, looking so happy that Kanata simply hugged his bear shyly and smiled back. The male, no, France, his name was France, hugged him, shouting something he didn't completely understand, but which included cute and adorable, so the little boy figured he had done the right thing.

"You look so cute Mon ami, is a pity I never had the chance to dress Angleterre like this!" Kanata nodded at him and Francis gushed at him. "Oh, you are simply too cute for words!"

"Oi, Francis! What are you squealing like a woman for?" Gilbert shouted as he marched in, looking mildly disgruntled as he did. Ludwig followed him closely, the little blond peering inquisitively around him. "What was so important that I had to come running to see?"

"Oh, Mon Cher, look at him! Isn't he the single most adorable thing you have ever seen?" Prussia stared as France showed him a kid dressed in what appeared to be a bunny suit, complete with big, floppy ears. When the boy shifted he was able to see that the suit even had a tail.

"...You made me come here, dragging the brat with me, so you could show off your new colony." The albino deadpanned, wondering if the satisfaction brought by hitting the blond would be worth the annoyance brought by his whinnying. Luckily for Francis, Ludwig had began to stared bashfully at the other boy, fidgeting nervously at him while he half hidden behind his brother.

"Mon ami, don't you want to play with Mathieu?" Francis asked kindly, smiling warmly at the young German. "I'm sure you two will have fun together."

The two boys stared shyly at each other until a crash was heard from the hallway and a brunet man was thrown into the room but what appeared to be a maid. The maid closed the doors with a bang and marched into the room after delivering another kick to the man on the floor. "Oi, the idiot said you wanted to show us something."

"Lovi~ you are so un-cute!" Antonio whimpered from the floor to which South Italy responded with a venous glare. "You are so mean to your boss, Lovi~"

"Antonio, you shouldn't tease petit Lovi in such a way." Gilbert began to search for some alcohol while Francis checked on the Spanish man. Since he was already here he might as well get pissed.

"Why don't the three of you go and play while we talk? I'm sure you will become friends. Maybe Lovi could show you my home, oui?" South Italy glared but stalked out with the other two following him shyly.

"So, what's your name?" The trio now stood in one of France's castle hallways, the brunet crossing his arms bossily and stared pointedly at the bunny suit wearing boy. The boy gazed at him puzzled while he translated what he said before answering.

"Mathieu" The colony then pointed at the cub he carried. "Kumajirou and you?"

"Lovino Vargas. This is Ludwig Beilschmidt." The maid pointed at the boy who nodded, staring curiously at the colony's pet. "Come on, Francis said to show you the castle."

The trio walked silently at first, South Italy at the head and the other two following him. The silence was broken, however, when Mathieu offered his pet to Ludwig. "Do you want to hold him?" Ludwig stared at him for a second, blushing when Lovino translated for him. The two had met at Prussia's house before and South Italy knew that the boy was just beginning to learn how to be a nation after some sort of accident. Lovino wasn't surprised that he was still learning the language of the nations that surrounded him but at least their companion didn't seem to be bothered by it.

With South Italy acting as the intermediary, the nations began to exchange stories about themselves and the people around them. Lovino told them about the dim-witted Antonio and a brother who lived with a man named Roderich. Ludwig spoke about Gilbert and the other nations that lived under his emperor. Mathieu, on the other hand, talked about an English man who visited him and the brother he hadn't yet meet under his care.

"Are you hungry?" Ludwig nodded; blushing as his stomach rumbled noisily, Kumajirou now back into the colony's arms since the other blond wasn't strong enough to carry him for too long. The brunet let them back into the room where they had left the older nations, the other two completely lost by now. "Oi, you three we are hungry!"

A snort coming from the pile of limbs and bottles was their only answer. Lovino grumbled darkly as he marched toward them, taking a firm hold of Antonio's sleeve and was about to shake him when Mathieu stopped him. The maid glared at the man but relinquished his hold and began to inspect the room for something to eat. There was some left over food on the table next to some half finished bottles, which the brunet handed out after checking it first.

Eating an alcohol leased meal was nasty the first time, no need the repeat the incident.

"Shouldn't we move them?" Ludwig asked when they finished with the food, Kumajirou eating the rest of the left overs. "Their necks will hurt if they sleep like that..."

Mathieu nodded, picking some of the empty bottles and placing them near the door for the servants to pick up. Lovino snorted but helped Ludwig pick Francis up and place him on the door. Mathieu moved Antonio easily while the other two struggled with the albino, finally lining up the three on the floor. The children then placed their heads on cushions taken from the armchairs and used a curtain as a blanket. When they had finished arranging them, Mathieu snuggled sleepily into the makeshift bed, Ludwig and Lovino following him in.

The trio were abruptly woken the next morning by the hung over adult who gushed unintelligibly at them.

* * *

The shouts and explosions made his ears rung as he ran to the next trench, his completely destroyed left eye making it difficult for him to find his way. He felt more that saw each hit, sometimes managing to warn other soldiers, most of the time jumping out the way just in time. His eye was a reminder of what happened to him when he didn't make it in time. The ache in his chest was the reminder of what happened when his soldiers didn't make it in time.

A bullet graced him and he instinctually searched for the source, looking eyes with a soldier with blue eyes and hair that could had been blond. He froze, the soldier mirroring his actions as the image of a shy, polite boy in a bunny suit came to him. He wondered dimly if the other remembered a blond boy to young for his body, trailing after him and a young maid who lead them around a continent neither of them knew. He wondered what had happened to the fluffy bear he loved to hug after all these years.

An Italian curse and a strong arm throwing him to the ground woke him up from the stupor, a grenade exploding just behind him. "ARE YOU MAD? MOVE IT YOU IDIOT!" Ludwig nodded, glazing back for a second but the man was already gone.

The memory was soon buried under mortar and gun powder.

* * *

"Here." Germany snapped up as a glass of water and two pills were deposited roughly in front of him. "You were forcing yourself again, like the potato bastard you are."

The pills turn out to be an analgesic and something for the flu, which the blond took gratefully, his head pounding painfully. The recession hadn't hit him as hard in the beginning but now was raging full force across his country. But there was simply nobody to replace him as the moderator for the nations' meeting. Austria didn't have enough authority and England was dealing with his own problems at home. Sweden would have filled in but most countries didn't understand the Nordic and having Finland or Denmark filling in was asking for trouble.

"You need to take better care of yourself!" South Italy snapped, sitting down grouchily. Ludwig was surprised when the man batted his hands away and began to massage his aching head, complaining all the time about the height difference. "How can you look after that idiot if you can't even look after yourself?"

"Hum, Ludwig, Lovino?" The nation opened an eye to see Canada smiling warmly at him, offering a tray of loaded with food. "I noticed you two weren't at the cafeteria so I brought you lunch. Are you feeling better? You didn't look to good during the meeting."

"The idiot was feeling ill and made it worse by ignoring it." Lovino informed the blond, who hummed thoughtfully while Kumajirou tugged at his sleeve.

"I see... What is it Kumajirou?" South Italy finished massaging Germany's head and began to distribute the food by preference, noting absently that Canada still remembered both their favourite food. "Do you need something?"

"Put me down." Matthew blinked but nodded, the bear climbing into the German's lap, the blond obliging him by scratching his ears.

"Do you still like this potato?" Ludwig sighed at the shorter version of his nickname but nodded at the Italian male, whipping his hands on a handkerchief before tucking in, and the quartet falling easily into old patterns.

"Ah, Mathieu is still the cutest thing on earth; don't you think so Mon ami?" Francis asked, gushing quietly at his former charge as Antonio cooed at Lovino's mostly hidden caring side.

"...Get away from me." Gilbert demanded, wondering how he managed to befriend such a pair of paedophiles. Though he had to admit it had been a long time since he saw Ludwig act like he did with the other two countries. "...Great, I'm turning into one of you. I need to spend more time with England or something…Maybe Russia."

* * *

Author's Notes: Lolz~


	9. Brother's Instinct

Author's Notes: Yep, I'm still alive! Aeron, Iain and Sean belong to Jackidy, but I have permission to use them. I own Consuelo. This chapter was betaed by Jackidy, thank you very much!

* * *

Brother's Instinct

France should had been concentrating on what USA was ranting about at the front, the four of them gathering together to discuss Germany's occupation and management. But he found himself more interested in the way Arthur lent more than sat on his chair, dark bags under his dull, green eyes. But the man had waved away their questions, listening silently and speaking sparingly.

It's with relief that the meeting ended, URSS shooting a final concerned glance at the British before leaving. Alfred shifted uneasily but left as well when Francis pushed him toward the door, knowing the other wouldn't speak with the boy in the room. "Arthur?"

"What do you want frog?" The insult felt tired to his ears and when approached the blond he didn't protest, even when he stood directly in front of him, kneeling to peer into his face.

"Arthur, when was the last time you slept?" Arthur didn't answer immediately, almost like he was considering the pros and cons of lying but finally shuddered unhelpfully. At first Francis considered pressing him for an actual answer but then he realized that it was the proper answer. "Mon ami, you are far too thin, have you been eating properly?"

When England shuddered again France could feel his vague concern turning into actual worry. They all had been hit hard by the war, but as time passed it was obvious that the island country wasn't recuperating as fast as the rest of them. England had been at the war from the beginning and at some point the only thing standing before an Axis triumph. Francis had more than once thought, and feared, that Arthur would join them, after all, he had nothing to lose and plenty to win. But in the end he didn't and it seemed that he was still paying for that decision.

"Come on, Mon Cher, you are staying with me tonight." Francis grew more worried when the other didn't complain, following him docilely to his home. Arthur ate the meal he was offered absently and collapsed in his bed all without saying a word to his worried host. "My dear Angleterre, what I am suppose to do with you?"

England slept for two days and when Wales and Scotland didn't turn up demanding for him France knew things had severally deteriorated at the man's house. Denmark appeared on the second day, a barely contained mass of energy and emotions that left almost as soon as he arrived. With the man in the middle of the process of giving his colonies their independence, it was apparent that no-one was going to come to check on him. The few who would visit far too busy rebuilding their own homes.

"How long have I been sleep?" Arthur asked when he finally woke up, looking like he could easily sleep a week more. Maybe a month if allowed to.

"Two days, Mon ami. Come on, breakfast is waiting." The British nodded dumbly downstairs and to his kitchen, digging into his late breakfast hungrily. He only seem to become aware of where he was after he had drowned two cups of scalding tea that Francis provided him with. "I suppose I should be heading back…"

"…Why don't you stay a few days, Mon ami? I'm sure your boss can spare you for a while." England stared at him doubtful, shaking his head tiredly as he nourished another cup. "Surely it is far too late to cross the channel tonight at least."

"I'm afraid I haven't had the time for anything these last few years… Besides, I have crossed it in worst conditions, you know… We both have." Francis supposed he couldn't argue that.

* * *

"Comrade Kirkland, are you feeling well, yes?" Arthur, if possible, looked even worse the next time the four gathered for a meeting. Skin a sickly ashen shade and hair hanging limply on top of his skull; he made for one ugly picture. It was probably a good thing that Denmark and Prussia weren't there too see him or France feared for the integrity of the British Islands.

"Let's get started then!" Alfred shouted unenthusiastically after the former empire waved their concern off. But Francis was so easily pleased and when the meeting ended he took the chance to drag the nation back to his home.

"Francis, I'm fine!" The blond man tsked, serving him another bowl of soup after his three day nap. "What are you trying to do? Choke me?"

"You are not leaving this house until you have regained at least half of the weight you have lost, Mon ami, and that's final." The British man gaped at him until his companion threatened to feed himself. "Don't worry, if your boss needs to find you I'm sure he knows where to look, oui?" Not that Francis would pass the message of course. He would go speak to the Queen if needed. At least she would have the good sense to give the nation a break.

"…I don't have time for this." Forest green eyes glared half heartily at the empty dish, thankfully not being filled again by an over enthusiastic blond. "My boss must have buried my desk with paper work by now and who knows if there is anything left of my house…"

"I'll ask Mathieu to check on your house then and I'm sure your brothers are up to the task of signing their names in a sheet of paper." The French man covered the other's mouth before he could protest. "Arthur, listen to me, you are not going back. I don't care if they set the Royal Navy after me, you are staying here. Don't make me ask mon cher Consuelo to come."

"Fine" Arthur shouted, throwing his arms up in disgust groaning as his too full stomach complained, loudly.

"Your are as stubborn as you were when I meet you, mon ami." The British scowled as the French messed his already messy hair, dodging the punch sent his way.

"I already could cut you in half with my sword back then." Francis chose to not comment on that, for a number of reasons.

* * *

Author's Notes: The only way I can write France is when he is being a big brother =D. By the way, Consuelo : Portugal.


	10. Kristallnacht

Author's Notes: Warning, anti-Semitism fic... sort of. Jackidy beated this.

* * *

Kristallnacht

The woman screamed as a gloved hand covered her mouth and she was forcefully picked up from her bed. She tried to grab the dagger she hide underneath her pillow but it fell to the floor during the struggle. "Be quiet Shamira!" The Jew woman froze, recognizing the male under the moon's weak light.

"What do you think you are doing?" The nation hissed angrily when the hand covering her mouth was removed. "Are you drunk? Have you been around Denmark again?"

But the former nation of Prussia ignored her, picking up her forgotten weapon and dragging her out of the room. "We don't have much time, Ludwig is waiting outside."

"What? Wait a min-" The sound of smashed crystal filled her mind, the cries of her people following soon after. "What, what's happening? Gilbert?"

"It's starting... Come on!" The albino opened the back door to reveal an un-descriptive car waiting for them. The German didn't wait for her to enter the car, but threw her inside and the car started before the door was even closed. "Step on it, Ludwig! It's already starting!"

"What? What's going on? Please... Tell me what's going on!" Dread had long turned into panic as she felt the first one of her children go. "What are you doing to my children?"

"Lay down you fucking idiot!" The female was roughly thrown to the floor of the car, a hand again ensuring her silence as another pushed her spine almost to the breaking point. She felt a coat being thrown over her, the albino using it to muffle any sound she produced. Shamira could feel the screams outside the car now, and the cheering of the people as each new blow felt. "For the love of God, stop struggling!"

"Brother, we are almost out of the city." Ludwig shouted to the back of the car, finally breaking free of the mob. Gilbert could now fell the stink of smoke in his nose and Shamira redoubled her effort to break free of his hold. She bitted hard into his hand but aside of cursing a storm the male refused to let her go until his brother parked the car in the middle of a grove of trees were a parked car was half covered in branches.

"Let me go! Come on! We don't have time for this shit!" The nation shouted in pain as the albino dealt her a heavy blow to the head, finally letting go of the freely bleeding hand. "Damn it, we are trying to help you here, you crazy bitch!"

"Brother! Calm down please!" The albino growled but exited the car, the younger male cautiously moving to check on the female's injury. "Shamira…Please, listen to me."

"What are you doing? What, Ludwig? Taking me to be burn in front of the Reichstad?" Germany grabbed the female's shoulders and shook her thrice, finally silencing her.

"We are getting you out of here... You need to go to seek refuge from England or USA... Get to Palestine if you can." The nation started to protest but he tightened his hold painfully. "No, listen, it's no longer safe for you to remind here... I-We don't know how far this will go."

She was being thrown out again. She was being thrown out again.

"I FOUGHT FOR YOU! I FOUGHT WITH YOU, YOU BASTARD! NOW YOU ARE JUST TROWING ME AWAY?" She didn't care who heard her, only to hurt the ones who had enjoyed hunting her for over a millennia, Always the pariah. Always, always the scapegoat, whether it was Catholics, Lutherans, Muslins, monsters the lot of them!

"WE ARE KEEPING YOU ALIVE!" The bloody, laying piece of crusade trash!

"LIKE YOU DID DURING THE MEDIEVAL TIMES?" She was tired of this, tired to the core. Why didn't the Lord deliver her of this anguish? Why didn't He strike her enemies? "WHAT, WAS IT BEEN TOO LONG SINCE THE LAST JEW MASSACRE SO GERMANY VOLUNTEERED TO FILL IN?"

"DAMN IT WOMAN, THERE'S NOTHING WE CAN DO!" There never was. If a nation lost a war, it died. If a new ruler took over, they vowed. If they were ordered to kill, they asked how many. If a nation was annexed, it vanished.

"...There never is... there never is anything we can do..." Shamira shocked out, finally breaking down in tears and hollowing as her children pain become her own. What had they done? Why is it they were never left in peace?

"Come on, we don't have time for this." The bag hit her on the chest, the Prussian not waiting for her to react before grabbing her hand and throwing her back to the car. "We have to get to the border... Netherlands promised to take you in until you find somewhere to go."

"...I have no where to go... I never have..." Prussia scoffed as he slammed the door shut, leaving Ludwig to take the other car to somewhere, she didn't really care.

"We never have where to go, dumb ass. None of us do. We simply follow our people to where they go." The blood was already staining the bandage he had wrapped around his hand, vivid crimson in a sea of white. How was he going to explain that? "Where are your people going?"

"Across the sea..." But she would be hunted again anyways, would she? What was the point?

"Then you head there. " It sounded so simple, so simple it made her want to scratch her eyes or tear her hair out. "...War is coming again... Not like they ever stop. The brat is going to come again to mess into it I bet."

"...The brat?"

"Sure, cocky bastard? Former colony of England" Why was he saying all of this? "I bet he would love to see some of the shit you have invented lately."

He couldn't be implying that she... "Gilbe-"

"We aren't going to get rid of them any other way, Shamira. Our only hope is that the next one aint as crazy as this one and that the good behaviour lasts more than a few decades. Killing each other is humanities favourite sport after all."

Two week later Alfred F. Jones opened his door to a dirty and weary woman who stood, glaring darkly at him. "Let me help you. You will drive you enemies thought the mud."

* * *

Author's Notes: Someone asked for a Germany and Prussia get Jew nation out of Germany before WII and this is what I come up with... yeah.


	11. Mjød

Author's Notes: Unoriginal tittle, meh. I own Denmark, Norway and Iceland's names. Thanks to Jackidy for betaing this.

* * *

Mjød

When ever they gathered together for a drink there were certain rules they all had to abide to. One was that Russia was not allowed near Finland in fear of another war breaking out. Another was that weapons were not to be brought within twenty kilometers of the house. But the most important one was that Norway was not allowed to drink more than a certain amount of alcohol. Of course, when the rest of them passed a certain threshold, it was impossible for any of them to remember to stop the nation from doing so.

"Fuck." Denmark was sure his brain was attempting to leave his skull with the way it was pounding. How much did he drink last night? "Shit."

"Sh't 'p." Sweden growled from the couch, Finland passed out contently on top of him. The Dane blinked, gland that they had remember to close the curtains this time and looked around for the rest of the nations.

Norway was for some reason sleeping on the table, all the bottles pushed to the floor and thankfully mostly intact. Sweden and Finland were on the couch and he was on the armchair. "Where are Iceland, England and Prussia?" Sweden growled something back which Denmark supposed was 'look yourself' or possibly 'fuck them and you'. In any case the nation, head protesting loudly, stood up and began to slowly comb the house for the missing nations.

Sigurðr checked the door first, which was still locked so it either meant that the trio hadn't exited the house or had done so via a window. The kitchen was empty and so was Hemming's room. But Egil's wasn't. "Agh, fuck." Norway had too much to drink again.

Snuggled on Egil's bed were two familiar boys sleeping. One was white haired and held a younger looking blond in his arms. Denmark, if he wasn't hung over and currently missing a third nation would had found the scene cute, adorable even. "Now to find Gilbert..."

The nation searched the guestrooms but found nothing until he entered Hemming's office. The curtain flew gently on the breeze as the window stood clearly open. On the ground, a floor bellow, footsteps could be clearly seen on the snow. "Well, fuck... I better call Ludwig."

* * *

"Who are you and what are you doing at my house?" Germany opened his eyes to find himself at the wrong end of a sword. His brain, used to peace by now took a moment to recognize the danger and he stared groggily at his attacker. Then he recognized the face of his assailant. "Gil-Gilbert?"

"How do you know my name?" His brother demanded; only his brother wasn't suppose to look like a ten year old or be using armor. "Hey, you look like Germania! Are you part of his territory?"

"Uh, I suppose?" Gilbert stared at him for a moment but finally lowered his sword and sheathed it. Then the boy jumped when his cellphone started to ring. Germany was barely able to save it before the knight destroyed it with his sword. "...Hello?"

"Hey, Ludwig, by any chance did your brother come home already?" Sigurðr voice came from the machine, sounding like he was in the middle of nursing a headache.

"What did you do to him?" Germany shouted, finally realizing the fact his older brother wasn't exactly older anymore. The said boy was amusing himself by looking through the window while staying hidden from sight. When had he learned to do that? "I demand you turn him back!"

"Agh, lower the volume, will ya?" There was a string of curses and for a moment Ludwig feared that the other nation was going to hang up. "Look, the only ones who can turn him back are Norway and England... and well, I wouldn't trust Norge to do a proper job until the alcohol is out of his system."

"Well, I will take him to England then!" Prussia had gotten bored of watching the streets, realizing none was currently sieging them so he began to left the room. Germany scrambled to follow the boy as he began to inspect the house's various rooms. "I can't leave him like this!"

"Told ya to lower the volume, didn't I?" Ludwig could by now hear some curses in the background but his brother entrance to the kitchen distracted him from them. "England was with us last night... and Norge got him too."

"OI Potato bastard" The nation cursed as the familiar voice rung through his house, his brother moving immediately towards it. "Come on! I'm hungry!"

Germany hung up his cellphone and ran after his miniature brother. The boy didn't seem to mind his presence much, more interested in learning who was invading his home. "Ludwig! Ve, I didn't know you had a younger brother."

"Feliciano, this isn't the time for that!" But it was too late since the knight was already pointing his sword to the two brothers, Feliciano squealing as he waved it in front his face. "Gilbert! Stop it!"

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Prussia shouted, glaring darkly at the two nations. North Italy hid behind his trembling brother, crying something about being to young and not tasting good.

"Lower that thing!" South Italy demanded, finally finding his voice. Germany gapped as the child did as commanded, staring at the nations as he was finally recognizing him.

"Lovino, why are you so tall?" Gilbert pointed disbelievingly at the nation who he remembered as an eight or so year old. "Hey, do you know what is going on? What are those things outside? Are they new war machines? And where is your guard?"

"...Gilbert?" Lovino kneeled to examine the knight closer, the boy staring at him confused but stood still. "Potato Bastard, what did you do to him?"

* * *

After explaining what had happened to the Italians, the four decided to have lunch at North Italy insistence. Ludwig tried to convince his brother to leave his armor and sword behind but he only listened when Lovino ordered him too. The boy, however, refused to leave his dagger, saying that if the brunet hadn't brought his guards, Gilbert would need something to protect him if someone attacked them.

Ludwig should have really known better than to agree with him.

"Good afternoon." Liechtenstein greeted them politely; Austria and Switzerland too busy staring at each other to do the same. Had Roderich managed to get lost in Lilli's lands again?

"Ah, good morning" Germany answered absently as he kept an eye on the Teutonic knight and North Italy. Thankfully his brother was only staring intently at Lilli while the Italian half hid behind his brother from Roderich. Lovino, never having had much contact with the Austrian man, was more busy exchanging pleasantries with the female of the group.

"Ludwig, is that…?" Austria had broken of his staring contest with Switzerland and now both nations were staring at the albino as he stood guard next to South Italy. The nation only nodded, not trusting his self to explain something he really didn't want to understand. Maybe later when his brother wasn't waving weapons around and actually remembered that he wasn't in whatever century he though he was in.

"Hey, aren't you the one who always saves that wimp Roderich ass?" Ludwig groaned as Gilbert pointed at Lilli, the young girl staring at him confused. "So… you are like Hungary?"

"I think he means you, brother." Switzerland grunted, both he and Austria avoiding everyone's eyes. Roderich was grateful for Elizabeta's absence, he was quite sure this Gilbert wouldn't have any qualms to putting a dagger in between her ribs.

"Ve, Ludwig, I'm hungry!"

* * *

In the end, no one lost a limb or was shot during lunch. Germany was able to convince North Italy to go home, but only convinced his brother to follow him to Norway's home when South Italy ordered him to do so. Ludwig wasn't sure if he was more disturbed by the fact Lovino was ordering Gilbert about or he fact none of the nations present seem surprised by the fact his brother actually listened to him.

"So ya found him." Sigurðr commented when he opened the door, a mug of coffee in hand. "Norge is still out of it but ya can stay here meanwhile."

At the living room Tino was sleeping on the couch while Berwald cleaned around him. The room reeked strongly of alcohol, but something else was on the air, something Ludwig wasn't able to place. Gilbert was looking around curiously, recognizing the place he had woken up instead of his cot back at the knights camp as he should had. The German was mildly irritated to note that Sigurðr didn't seem to concerned about the situation and moved to help the Swede clean the room.

Ludwig was about to call the nation on his attitude when a young white haired boy entered the room, an even younger blond following him like a duckling. "Weren't you too guys taking a nap?"

"Woke up" The older of the two replied, not sparing a glance to the newly arrived nations. Two baby birds were sitting on the younger boy's head and for the first time that day Ludwig realized his brothers' pet had been missing from his side/head. "Art is hungry."

"It is getting late…" Sigurðr muttered to himself, groaning as he stared at his empty mug. "Hey, are ya up for cooking?"

"Ord'r." Sweden grunted back as he picked up the trash bags and exited the house. Finland snorted something but rolled over and continued to sleep undisturbed on the couch. "Yo' know wh't w' 't."

"Yeah, so Gilbert, what da ya want to eat?" Denmark asked as he picked Arthur and Egil up and headed into the kitchen. "I show ya the catalog…"

"What is a catalog?" Germany was left standing on the living room next to a sleeping Finland, the nation not even noticing his absence. Sweden didn't even look at him when he reentered the house, heading stray to the kitchen to join his brother.

The German nation sighed and picked up the discarded broom Berwald had been using to tidy up the room. He might as well do something useful while he waited.

* * *

Author's Notes: Yep, you are being ignored Ludwig. By the way, next morning Norway woke up and fixed them all. Didn't write it because nothing interested happened after this, unless you count them getting dinner and going to sleep. And ignoring Ludwig.

Berwald speak:

Sh't 'p: Shut up.

Ord'r: Order.

Yo' know wh't w' 't: You know what we eat.


End file.
